Page 68 of Avenging Kelly

“So, you get fifty grand for the babies, do ya?” I asked as Trudeau walked over to the table and opened the toolbox, rolling out a towel to unload his toys.

“The money is to help the birth mother as she carries the baby. Nobody wanted to help the Virgin Mary when she was carrying our Lord. We give the money to the birth mom so she can go to the doctor and be sure the baby is healthy,” Bess stated.

I looked at Trudeau, and he smirked, winking at me. “Yeah, uh, that’s what we do.”

I could see she believed it, but that didn’t fucking matter. She knew those girls were underage, and she let it fucking happen. She was as guilty as the rest of them.

Phillippe Trudeau lifted out a bone saw, several sizes of scalpels, forceps, scissors, a nail gun, pliers, side cutters, and a mallet and chisel. The asshole had quite a creative imagination when it came to his chosen tools of torture, but I could tell him half that shit wouldn’t work the way he wanted to pretend it would. It brought an idea to my mind that I couldn’t resist.

“I killed Dino Mangello, so I’m damn well not afraid of you.”

I watched Trudeau slide the turtleneck sweater over his head and hand it to Bess before he kissed her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered to her, and I wanted to puke.

Poor Montero was standing to the side, staring at Trudeau with a hunger in his eyes that made me smile.

Trudeau pulled a waxed canvas apron from the bottom of his little magic bag and slid it over his head, tying it around his waist before he tossed a set of heavy-duty cryogenic gloves used to handle dry ice. They’d be thick enough that he wouldn’t get any trace DNA on his hands and hard to cut through with his choice of instruments.

They were too thick to work with for my taste, but then he bent over and picked up a large metal can with a label, “Carbon Dioxide.” Ah, something new to burn the skin.

“You watch your husband fuck the girls? That your thing? Watching?” I asked, hoping to get a rise out of Bess to distract Trudeau.

Phillippe laughed. “We conceive our babies in love because we are the chosen ones. My wife is there while it happens. Our love for the virgins makes for healthy, happy babies. We only charge people the money it costs us to be sure the babies are well cared for.”

I watched Montero’s scowl as he stared at Trudeau’s ass and licked his lips, so I took a chance. “How about when you fuck the Maniac—or does he fuck you?”

Trudeau picked up a claw hammer I hadn’t noticed and started for me. “I’m the only person who knows where that baby is and taking a hammer to my head when I say things that are true won’t get you answers. Mia and the baby could be anywhere in the world, and that’s a lot of territory you’d have to cover to find them without my help.”

Bess grabbed his arm to stop him, and the Maniac came at me instead with a meaty fist that caught my jaw like a sledgehammer. It hurt like hell, but I got my results, knowing I’d struck a nerve by how fast both men had moved to shut me up.

I wiggled my jaw and was happy he hadn’t knocked out a tooth. Since I could open my mouth, I was guessing maybe a fracture, which wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

“I’ll be happy to have you suck my dick, Miguel,” I taunted.

The guy started for me again when we all heard a squeaking sound outside the door that grew louder as it approached. I hoped to fuck my crew had found me and were there to stop this shit show.

We all sat there for a few minutes just listening to that god-awful sound and waiting to see what would happen. I was ready to die if necessary, but I’d take those fuckers with me.

They’d already turned on the lights in the building when it had gotten dark, so it was too late to turn them off and pretend like nobody was home. I heard the squeaking grow louder as the door was opened. Miguel, Trudeau, and Bess each pulled out guns to greet our new guest.

A homeless man stumbled inside, a bottle of cheap vodka in his left hand while pushing a rusty grocery cart with a squeaking wheel that had definitely seen better days. There was a lot of shit in the cart, and for a minute, the room was silent as the guy slowly limped inside and pushed it ahead of him.

“You usin’ this one, are ya?” the drunk man mumbled before he took a swig out of the bottle.

He was hunched over, his face covered by a scraggly beard and dirty gray hair. His coat was made of silver duct tape, and his eyes seemed to take in the whole place at once.

“Get the fuck outta here,” Trudeau yelled as he pointed to Montero, who hurried over to where the man was rooting through the cart as the door finally closed with his cart settled into a place that blocked the exit. The man damn well didn’t look too concerned about what he’d walked into, either.

Things were calm for an instant, and then all hell broke loose. While everyone was focused on the homeless man, the windows on the river side of the building rained glass down from above as gunfire from an automatic weapon broke the silence before one of the rolling garage doors blew open from impact.

I was in the path of the headlights, so I tried to rock my chair out of the way when I was tackled from behind and taken to the ground, the chair breaking around me. Just then, five or six men rushed inside through the gaping hole in the building.

Suddenly, the homeless guy pulled out an AR-15 and aimed at the ceiling, pulling off a few rounds before the trash on top of the cart flew through the air and another man stood with another AR-15 and sprayed the area. Trudeau, his wife, and Montero went down, though I couldn’t judge how serious their injuries were.

As suddenly as they came in, they were gone, and I didn’t know who the fuck to thank. All of the combatants except the homeless guy were covered from head to toe in military-style gear, but there was no way they were military… or US military. I didn’t know who to kiss, so I untangled myself from the broken chair and sat on the ground to wait for the next act.

When I heard the sirens whining, I knew I wouldn’t have to wait long.

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